Serial Novella: Slave to Blood Chapter 4

Get to know Catriona a little better

Marina

Her entire body trembling, Marina closed the journal and fought to hold back tears of joy. “I knew it was real.” Stroking the cover of the book, Marina allowed her emotions to take over. She slumped over and cried.

Unsure of how to react, Catriona downed the rest of her drink and moved out of the booth. “I think I should go, perhaps.”

Lifting her head, Marina wiped away her tears, a broad smile on her face. “You don’t seem convinced that leaving is the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Catriona said, glancing in the direction of the exit.

“Please, sit with me. I can explain some things to you. Not all, not just yet, but enough to make you stay.”

Startled, Catriona jumped as the server brushed past her and placed another pint of Guinness on the table.

“He will continue to bring them until you tell him to stop,” Marina said.

Everything felt off, as though the world had tilted a few degrees in a direction it should not go. For Catriona, though, the feeling was that things were finally right for the first time in her life. Her jeans were worn and smudged with stains, now forever part of the fabric, her T-shirt thin to the point of being almost sheer. She did not belong in a place as austere as the hotel lounge, yet she felt at home. As she sat, she wondered if the location or the woman sitting beside her helped give rise to that feeling.

“Fifty-three,” Marina said as Catriona slid towards her once more.

“Excuse me.”

“You were off in your guess. I am fifty-three years old.”

Looking Marina up and down, Catriona shook her head. “How is that possible?”

“Hmm.” Marina shifted in her seat, a pained expression on her face. “That is where things become rather tricky. There is more of a story to tell before we get to that part, assuming you are willing to hear it all.”

Dipping her finger into the head of the Guinness, Catriona drew a four-leaf clover before licking the foam from the tip. “I’m still here,” she said sheepishly.

“Yes, you are. Before we talk about me, I want to know more about you. How did you end up here? What is your story?”

Casting a quick glance at the journal, Catriona drummed her fingers against her glass before lifting it and taking a small sip. “I don’t know who the woman in that book is, but I already feel a kinship with her.”

“How so?”

“My da was not at all pleased to have a girl. The doctor had told him and my ma that they would have a boy, so imagine their surprise when I popped out.” Catriona sighed heavily, staring into the dark beer as though looking for answers. “He was cruel from the start and would hit me at any opportunity, cursing me as the blows rained down.”

“Your mother didn’t intervene?”

“Jesus, no. She was terrified of him, especially after becoming barren after giving birth to me. No chance of having the boy that might settle him down.”

“Did he hit her, too?”

“I’d hear him yell and rage, and then it would go quiet. My ma never had a mark on her that I could see, so I can’t be entirely sure. She covered for him with me, though, even when the seizures began.” Catriona smiled, but the sadness remained in her eyes. “She told the doctor that I had fallen off the changing table and bumped my head when I was a wee one.”

“And they believed her?”

“You have to understand; we lived in a small town in Ireland, and everyone thought my da was the salt of the earth. Certainly not a man to hit a child. They blamed my ma for the brain injury that caused my seizures. That was when the sight began.”

Marina leaned forward and grabbed hold of Catriona’s hand. “I need to know more about that. Tell me what you see.”

“It’s hard to explain.” Chewing on her bottom lip, Catriona seemed lost in thought for a moment before continuing to talk. “The things I see are like waking dreams. I’ll get a look at someone and immediately know what their problems are or what their future might hold. It’s not always a clear picture, but fuzzy, like when you are trying to look through a rain-streaked window. Do you know what I mean?”

Marina thought about her hotel room window view the previous night, how the falling rain had partially obscured her view of the waterfront. “I do understand.”

“I don’t tell many people what I see. They either don’t believe me or spend the rest of their time fretting about something out of their control. I learned at a young age that it’s best to keep my mouth shut.” Catriona pulled her hand free and reached for her beer, refusing to make eye contact.

“You saw something with me, didn’t you?” Marina nudged the girl, almost causing her to drop the beer glass. “You can tell me. I can take it.”

“That’s what they all say,” Catriona said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She flinched as Marina moved and placed a hand on her neck, pulling her in close. Eyes brimming with tears, she said, “I don’t think you want to know.”

“I do.”

“Blood. I saw you drenched in blood, your throat torn wide open. Years from now, though. You looked much older.”

The warmth seemed to escape the cramped confines of the booth as the words flew from Catriona’s lips. Marina shuddered but tried to disguise her discomfort with a smile. She reached out and touched the journal, the leather like snakeskin against the tips of her fingers. “Did you see who cut me?” she finally asked.

“There’s something I can’t explain. I…” Catriona stopped, her eyes shifting to the bar, where she could see the bartender looking their way as he poured another pint.

“Tell me.”

“It’s the first time that I have felt as though I was present in what I was seeing. I’m quite sure that I am in the room when it happens.”

Marina touched her neck, absentmindedly running her fingers across her throat. “Are you telling me that it was you who cut me in your vision?”

Pursing her lips, Catriona shook her head, slowly at first, but soon more forcefully. “No. There are some things you need to understand about what I see.”

“Such as?”

“They are not always accurate.” She closed her eyes, hoping to see the right words emerge from the darkness. “I saw you die, but the blood might represent an illness rather than an act of violence. Perhaps the gash in your neck represents throat cancer. That’s what I mean.”

Marina laughed. “Well, that’s far more reassuring, but it does tell me something.”

“What’s that?”

“It tells me that you are coming back to New Orleans with me.”

The server placed another pint on the table and strode away without a backward glance. Catriona watched him go, a million thoughts racing through her mind. “If I were to come, what would you expect from me? I’ve been a slave at that pub for long enough. I don’t want to trade one bad situation in for another, thank you very much.”

Dodging the question, Marina said, “You never did tell me how you ended up here in Savannah.”

“And you’ve still told me nothing about your life,” Catriona snapped, the alcohol providing a shot of courage.

“True, but I will tell you all. I promise. Listen, Catriona, the position is yours if you want it, but think of this as a job interview. A touch more personal, yes, but I am genuinely interested in getting to know you.”

As much as she wanted to refuse, Catriona felt comforted by the words. A warm glow sat in her belly, warming her entire body. She felt at home for once and at ease for the first time in her life. She sighed and continued to talk. “There’s not a lot to tell. I got pregnant when I was twenty. It was my first time doing anything with a fella, so I didn’t know anything about protection. I tried to hide it, but my da found out. There was hell to pay. After all, I had disgraced a good Catholic family, or at least that’s how my da saw it.”

“What about your mother?”

“Oh, there was a lot of wailing and hand wringing, but I think she was excited about the prospect of a grandbaby, at least until my da talked her out of the idea.” Balling her fists, Catriona fought to control her anger. “They came to me as a team and told me it would be a good idea for me to give up the baby for adoption. I was having none of it and told them so. My da said to me that if I wasn’t going to give up the little one, then I wasn’t welcome under his roof.”

“What about the father of the baby?”

Catriona grunted loudly. “Useless as tits on a bull, that one. He left town as soon as he found out. I was stuck. Nowhere to go, so I told them that I would do the adoption thing. I figured it would buy me some time to save money and get a place of my own when the baby came.” She lowered her head and placed a hand on her belly. “The wee one never did get to come, though.”

“What happened?” Marina asked softly.

“One of my seizures. I was in the shower when it hit. I fell out of the tub and went down hard on the linoleum. I knew as soon as I hit that I was in trouble.” Catriona picked up the glass but thought better about taking a drink. She placed it back on the table and gently pushed it away. “By the time the seizure passed, and I was able to stand, my legs were covered in blood. The ambulance came, but they were too late to save my baby.”

Marina reached over and put an arm around Catriona’s shoulder, feeling her initially resist before relenting and accepting the hug. Whispering soothing words, she pulled the girl in close and placed her head against her chest. Catriona wept, great wracking sobs that sent tears spilling onto Marina’s silk blouse. “I’m going to make sure you never hurt again. You are coming home with me.”

“It’s not that simple,” Catriona cried.

“It is that simple. We are driving back to New Orleans tomorrow. You stay here with me tonight and then get in the car tomorrow and never look back.”

“George won’t allow it. He told my da that he would look after me when I came here after losing the baby. I needed to get away from the sympathetic stares of the people in my wee town. George owed my da a favor and took me in. He’s like a jailer now, keeping an eye on my every move. He won’t feckin’ let me leave with all my stuff in tow.”

Without saying a word, Marina pulled out her smartphone and furiously jabbed at the screen. “We’ll see about that.”

“What are you doing?”

Marina held a finger to her lips, hushing the girl before speaking into the phone. “James, come down to the lobby bar. I have a job for you.” She furrowed her brow as she listened to the response. “I don’t give a damn that it’s your night off. We have a situation. Get your ass here in ten minutes.” With that, she closed the connection and slammed the phone down on the table.

“I don’t want you to make a fuss.”

“Don’t you worry. James will handle this. Do you want a bite to eat while we wait?”

Catriona shook her head, her eyes drifting back to the journal in the middle of the table. “Could you maybe read to me some more?”

“You feel it, don’t you?”

Catriona nodded, her heart fluttering as Marina flipped open the journal.